


Quest (for tomorrow you may die)

by highboys (orphan_account)



Category: Kimi to Boku
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/highboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the most dangerous game Yuuki's ever played.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quest (for tomorrow you may die)

**Author's Note:**

> Nanashi no Game AU.

**we were heroes at the edge of the world**

 

 

Today is not the end of the world.

This is what Yuuki thinks of, as he sinks to his knees. A wound blisters open, on his ankle. His hands lay useless at his sides. His eyes are red and aching.

There are many moments in the life of a quintessential hero that make him think, ah, this is it, this is that one final, perfect moment, but to Yuuki, this is not that moment. This is not even a brief respite.

Someone waits for him, at the top of the lighthouse. He has seen it in all its forms -- pixels, whiteness, death, despair. Regrets and anger, misguided, misdirected. In vengeance, it is lost to them all.

Today is not the end of the world, no, but it comes close.

 

 

**and then you said I would be better, best at this**

 

 

_There is this game that his classmates like to play. They pass around the ROMs like they could never get enough of it, and Yuuki soon finds himself on Kaname's doorstep with a spare TS in hand._

_"It's supposed to be cursed," Yuuki tells him. "I figured you would like it."_

_"I like kicking your ass at survival horror, not playing it by myself," says Kaname._

_"Do you want me to hold your hand?"_

_Kaname ignores him. Yuuki's fingers twitch, at his side. "Is this another one of those urban legends again?"_

_"Neet-kun says he knows someone who died after seven days. It was his brother."_

_"Yes, you and your highly questionable internet friends at 2chan are so reliable," says Kaname. He takes the TS from Yuuki, anyway, and boots it up. "Do you want me to die that quickly, you punk?"_

_"Yes," says Yuuki._

_"Ugh," says Kaname, rolling his eyes. "I hate you so much. Why don't you go bother your brother instead?"_

_Yuuki swallows. He curls his fingers into a fist. "Just play," says Yuuki. "Please."_

 

 

**for one thing I give you another**

 

 

Let me tell you a story.

Once there was a boy who loved another who loved another who loved another –

That is usually how stories go, but it does not lose its familiarity. Its resonance.

And once there was a boy who loved a boy who hated and hated and hated until he used up his anger, used up his sorrows.

Like birds they picked at each other's feathers; like predators they tore at each other's throats.

But sometimes, only sometimes, there was something tangible, in there. Something permanent.

Something real.

 

 

**your smoke on my covers, your fingertips on my skin**

 

 

_On warm days Yuuki likes to curl up against Kaname on his futon. Sometimes Yuuki plays on his TS as he rests his head on Kaname's lap. Sometimes Kaname reads. More often than not, he smokes. Takes long drags of his cigarette and exhales away from Yuuki's face._

_Sometimes they do nothing but stare at each other, a mismatched parallel of limbs and bare skin and blank expressions, Kaname holding him tightly by his elbows and Yuuki pressing the smallest of kisses past his jaw. "Stop that," says Kaname, the first to break. He turns his head away, hiding his reddening ear. "That tickles."_

_"Do you want me to bite somewhere else?" Yuuki asks. His hand slides up from Kaname's bent knees to rest at his hipbone._

_"I cannot believe you can say that with a straight face," says Kaname. His sigh is a warm ghost against Yuuki's chin; his next, into Yuuki's mouth._

_"I could do a lot of things, too," says Yuuki. "Like getting you off. With my hands. With my—"_

_Kaname kisses him, fiercely, this time._

_"You're a pervert," says Kaname. "A filthy pervert with a mind drugged up from H-games."_

_"They're very helpful," says Yuuki, shamelessly._

_Kaname cracks a small smile, at that. "I'm sure."_

_Yuuki traces circles across Kaname's thigh. "You weren't complaining few minutes ago."_

_"No," says Kaname. He hooks a leg around Yuuki's waist and presses closer. "But I like to learn by doing."_

_"Wise words," says Yuuki._

_Kaname's eyes narrow, but he's still smiling. "I hate you," he says._

_"I know," says Yuuki. "I hate you too, just a little bit."_

_Just a little. Or maybe not at all._

 

 

**sparks to a fire, burn, baby, burn**

 

 

Let me tell you another story.

When Yuuki was younger, he lost himself in RPGs. The main character was easy to modify to his tastes -- high strength, high defense, moderate agility. The certainty of victory was counted in terms of hit points and hack and slash tactics; winning was the only option to save mankind.

Yuuki does not know how Kaname's mind operates; inasmuch as Yuuki's thoughts are beyond Kaname's comprehension, Kaname is a blank slate, tabula rasa, if you will. Fresh, but incapable of being taught.

That is why it is a surprise to know he is so good at surviving.

That is why it is a surprise to know that he does not believe in stories.

 

 

**like walking through a set of choices unmade**

 

 

_"You're like a child," is the only thing Kaname tells him as he loses himself in the motions. A, A, A, parry, X. Kaname rests his head on Yuuki's shoulder, putting all his weight on Yuuki._

_"Hush, evil warlock," Yuuki tells him, pushing him aside. Kaname's glasses are knocked askew; Yuuki pauses his game and takes it off._

_"I hate you," says Kaname, huffing. Yuuki's thumb passes over Kaname's lower lip, imploring, searching._

_"I love you," says Yuuki._

_Through lidded eyes, Kaname looks at him. Bites the edge of Yuuki's thumb until it turns red and the skin cracks, blisters._

_"I see," says Kaname. "Is that why you prefer to court me with Zelda, then?"_

_"Foreplay," says Yuuki, seriously. "It helps set the mood. Rescuing damsels in distress."_

_"Pillaging townsfolk's homes."_

_"Going on quests."_

_"Robbing poor maidens of their virtue."_

_"Saving the world," Yuuki finishes. He sets Kaname's glasses down and shuts Kaname's sharp bark of laughter with his mouth._

_"Speaking of virtue," says Kaname, yanking him close, close, closer by his hair, "I don't suppose you have any left at this point."_

_"My hero," says Yuuki._

_If only. If only._

 

 

**faces like frozen memories and soaked nightmares**

 

 

It is three fifteen when Yuuki is nudged awake. Three fifteen and the worst day of the world, and it is a thought that is almost enough to make him laugh.

"Get up."

Kaname is looking at him. His face is impassive and pale, from anger, from fatigue, from what, exactly? Yuuki's eyes begin to mist; he rubs the back of his hand against them until his eyes are sore and his hand is chaffed.

"I said get up," says Kaname.

Yuuki vomits on the grass – bile and food from yesterday, slim pickings after the worst night in the world.

What Kaname does not know -- what Yuuki would never say -- is that Yuuki only has one regret. He calls it Kaname.

 

 

**I sleep with a knife at my side and your mouth against my bones**

 

 

_Kaname's clock beeps. It is eleven o'clock, exactly, and Kaname is fighting a losing battle against sleep._

_"I'm tired," says Kaname. His arms hurt, sensitized. His fingers feel numb. The stylus keeps slipping past his hand and onto the bed. He closes his eyes. "I'm just gonna nap for a few hours. Take over for me."_

_Yuuki rolls over from his spot beside him and squashes him under his weight. "No," says Yuuki. "You have to keep playing. It's already the third day."_

_"_ I don't care _," says Kaname. He talks slowly, like he is speaking to a child. "My brain's giving up the ghost. Get off me."_

_"No."_

_Kaname kicks at him; Yuuki catches his foot, by the ankle. "If you liked that stupid game so much," snarls Kaname, "then get the fuck out of my room and go play in your own home!"_

_Kaname's anger is sharp and biting, like vindictive ghosts left unsatisfied without a kill. In the face of that, Yuuki does not crumble. He does not flinch. "I can't," says Yuuki._

_Kaname yanks his foot back. He curls up on his side; he looks like he is about to cry, but Yuuki does not comment. "I haven't slept for more than two hours a day, Yuuki," Kaname rasps out. "I'm so tired I can't even feel anything anymore."_

_Three days for Kaname. Two, for Yuuki, but strangely, Yuuki's mind is active, unhindered by earthly functions. His TS is under the bed, untouched. Kaname complains about his eyesight, how he cannot differentiate the white spots from the LCD anymore, but Yuuki feeds him encouragement to the point that it is like a disease, like an addiction._

_The only time Yuuki lets Kaname close his eyes, he does not let his body rest. Yuuki carves out a path along Kaname's body with his fingers, makes him go insane with want. He fucks Kaname like it's his last day on earth, like he will die tomorrow, and Kaname muffles soft, incoherent phrases into Yuuki's skin, senseless, unnerving, immutable._

_"I hate you," says Kaname, brokenly. "I hate you so much."_

_Yuuki feels something in him splinter. Like regret._

_Kaname._ Kaname.

 

 

**playing dumb as the sun comes up and the earth starts shaking**

 

 

Kaname makes a face at Yuuki's prone form. He sighs and stoops down.

"What, am I that unattractive now that you have to puke?" Kaname says. His tone is airy, but still grounded, like gravel. "It's only been a few hours, you know."

This can't be happening, Yuuki thinks, frantic. I have a bit more time, why is he, why am I, oh my god, _Kaname_.

It is almost a surprise, to hear his own voice. A little detached from reality, but it is his. "Are you here to take me away?"

Kaname sighs, again. "I'm not carrying you. Now get the fuck up before I kick your ass to kingdom come."

"I don't understand," says Yuuki, staring at the tiny slits between his fingers. He covers his face and feels his cheeks cool, like ice.

"I won't let you die," says Kaname, "so get the fuck up, you jerk."

Time. Time time time time time –

 

 

**day 007**

 

 

_It is dark, in Kaname's apartment. The light switch does not seem to work, even if the electricity still runs. Yuuki rests his shaking hands on the counter; Kaname's spare key clatters uselessly to the floor._

_It's alright, Yuuki thinks. Groping in the dark is better than running, at least. His legs still feel like liquid heat, like he will fall down and fall apart soon. He doesn't._

_"Kaname," Yuuki calls out, short of breath like he has run the entire distance between his house and Kaname's. He has. "Kaname, are you okay?"_

_The entire place smells like some foul chemical. It irritates Yuuki's eyes, and he has to still his hands to keep from scratching. He squares his shoulders and listens for anything. A minor dripping, he thinks._

_There is water running, in the kitchen, but no Kaname. Yuuki switches off the tap. He pulls out a knife from a drawer. "Kaname!"_

_His TS chirps at him, from his pocket. He ignores it._

_He passes a mirror in the hallway. If he looks closely, he can read Kaname's hasty scrawling with a felt tip marker. LET ME SLEEP, it says. LET ME SLEEP LET ME GO GO AWAY GO AWAY G--._

_Yuuki bites his lip._

_He enters Kaname's room. On the bed, a figure sleeps, swathed in sheets. Kaname's socked feet stick out from the hem. Yuuki's heart stops its frenetic pace; it slows with the ringing in his ears._

_"Kaname," Yuuki nearly sobs in relief. "I'm here, come on, we have to get you out of here."_

_He touches the swell of what he thinks is Kaname's shoulder. Kaname falls, uselessly, to the floor. Or, more exactly, it is not Kaname at all._

_It's his head._

_Yuuki drops the knife. He holds his hands to his face. His fingers scrabble uselessly at his eyes._

_Kaname, Kaname,_ Kaname _._

_His eyes. They hurt._

 

 

**my heart is a well, it drags me down down down**

 

 

The skies are absent of stars, by now. It is only darkness and cold, but something in him sings. It frightens him, terribly.

"I killed you," says Yuuki. Bile rises in his throat; it comes in heaps and he almost chokes. He clutches at his neck, longs to rip out his sobs. "I killed you and I knew, I just knew you were going to die."

"Get up!"

Yuuki keeps his head bowed low. Something in him wants to retch at Kaname's feet. It burns, and simmers. "Killed you."

"Get up!"

"Killed you," says Yuuki. He's rambling now. "Killed you, I love you, don't hate me, I love you, don't die, don't leave, don't leave, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

He cannot see Kaname's face. He cannot see anything beyond the red in his eyes, his tears.

"Fuck you," says Kaname. "I didn't come back from the god-fucking dead just to see you cry and whine like a kid. _Fuck_ , this is why I didn't want to sleep with you in the first place, you asshole."

Kaname bends down, to touch his hair. Yuuki moans – sobs, more like, and shudders at the cool air. At Kaname's fingers, careful, so careful. "Don't leave me," says Yuuki. "Don't leave like Yuuta did."

"I won't," says Kaname. "I won't."

"Love you. Love –" He gasps out. "Love—"

"I think I loved you, sometimes," says Kaname. "But you were easier to hate."

"I'm sorry," says Yuuki. "I'm sorry."

He is so, so tired.

 

 

**& then for the last time**

 

 

_Yuuki cannot describe the color of Kaname's eyes. The softness of his tongue. How it yields, how it follows in supplication. How it tastes in his mouth._

_Words, they are insufficient. His thoughts, unknowledgeable. His memory, a fragment of something else._

 

 

**this is the time to be honest, finally**

 

 

Let me tell you a story. A real one.

In Yuuki's dreams, Kaname tells him only one thing. The same thing, over and over. "I hate you," says Kaname. "I hate you."

The truth is, Kaname has never said this to him, or to anyone else. Has never laughed at him over video games or called him a pervert as he sucked a bruise into Kaname's skin. Has never given him hope or thought or a fleeting privilege. Has never called him by his name like it mattered.

The truth is, Kaname was never his.

Never.

 

 

**day 001**

 

 

_On weekends, Kaname drops by Yuuki's house. He has no idea why Kaname does this, because Yuuki is a recluse and Yuuta is never at home, anyway. But that, Yuuki supposes, is a kindness that Kaname cannot bear to vocalize._

_It stings, the realization. Kaname pities him. Yuuki clenches his jaw and ignores Kaname's solicitous inquiries, his provocations, his mouth._

_Yuuki is not Kaname's friend by choice, and vice versa. Kaname is Yuuki's friend, and they have known each other since kindergarten, but Yuuki has always been invested in fantasy and Kaname is the most grounded person he knows. When Yuuki drops out of college in his sophomore year and begins life anew as a certified hikikomori, Kaname does not say anything; he does get this look in his eyes, like he knows. Like Yuuki is nothing, in the grand scheme of things._

_It is a wonder he even makes an effort._

_Kaname sits on Yuuki's bed, the lower part of the bunk. He frowns at the unmade sheets, the manga underneath the mattress. Yuuki stays silent, focused only on his computer. Every moment is like a thousand merciless, meaningless stabs to his side. Kaname makes him feel awake. Attentive. Obsessed. Less like himself._

_Yuuki narrows his eyes._

_"Is that a new game?" Kaname asks, after a few moments, pointing at the abandoned TS on Yuuta's desk._

_"It was Yuuta's," says Yuuki, shortly._

_"Oh," says Kaname._

_"You can borrow it, if you want," Yuuki offers. He does not take his eyes away from the chat box._

_Kaname opens the console and browses through the games in the memory card. "Oh, cool," says Kaname, grinning slightly. "He's got that game that's popular in my class now."_

_"He does," says Yuuki. "Now leave me alone."_

_"Your manners are terrible, but thanks anyway," says Kaname. When Yuuki says nothing in response, Kaname picks up his bag and stuffs the TS in it. He shuffles past Yuuki, the hem of his coat touching the back of Yuuki's neck, like an invitation of sorts. Yuuki does not take it. He never does, out of cowardice, out of fear._

_"See you later," says Kaname, shrugging. He shuts the door behind him and leaves._

_The grooves along Yuuki's mouse leaves marks on his palm. He does not realize how tightly he is holding onto it until his muscles throb in complaint. He wants to go out and run after Kaname, but he cannot. Something holds his attention, something that makes him forget about regretting anything._

_His computer screen blinks at him._ Neet-kun _, the handle says. His heart. It feels like it is pounding in his throat._

_He wonders where Yuuta is now. If any of it is true._

 

 

**i thought we would be over this by now**

 

 

The truth is, memory is a fluid enemy. It is so easy to change. So easy to manipulate.

Take a thread from your thoughts. Wind it around your finger and pull until it breaks. Now add a boy who has spent his life dreaming of a life beyond reality, and mix in the dark, brooding thoughts of unsatisfied desire, of unvoiced, unacknowledged regret. Take it with some sprinkling of truth, some small dose of attention. Watch for it. Wait.

Yuuki has always been weak to Kaname.

Always.

 

 

**learning is half the battle**

 

 

The video games, they do not tell you how a character lives, or dies. Only that there is the dead to spare some tears for, and afterwards comes the final hurdle, the ultimate opponent.

"Is this what you wanted," Yuuki whispers into the ghost of Kaname's cheek. His white throat. The blood on his fingers. Spite. Regret. Never again.

Kaname tastes like. He tastes like.

The TS beeps to life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_"Yuuki," says Kaname. His voice is a hushed crack over the telephone line. "I'm scared."_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**one final savepoint: the thirty minutes to sunrise remix**

 

 

"Come on," says Kaname. "Let's go keep you alive a little longer."

He holds out his hand. It is white against Yuuki's trembling fingers, brighter than the sun. Light and air, immaterial, but he thinks he knows this person. He knows its ghosts.

I have lost you, Yuuki thinks, and it is not to the world.

Yuuki picks up the TS, and plays.

 


End file.
